Before the Explosion
by MadMoomin
Summary: A short, sweet story about Layton's life around a certain event. Follow him through some of his time with Claire and meeting a lifelong friend for the first time.
1. Prologue: The Girl from the Past

**This is my first fan fiction EVER, so I thought where better to start than Professor Layton? I have more exciting stories coming up so if you enjoy this look out for those! **

**Prologue: The girl from the past**

London, 10 years after the explosion.

Layton stopped dead in his tracks; could it be? It couldn't: Claire was long gone, but the resemblance was unreal. Before he could stop himself Layton was running down the street after the girl, she turned into an alley way, but when he reached it she was gone. Gone, vanished into thin air. No, she had to be in one of the shops. Before he could follow her, Luke, who was panting after the run, arrived beside him.

"Who *huff huff* who was that, professor?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing" the professor replied, staring down the alley way, "... It was no one."

As the pair continued their journey to China Town there was silence, the professor had a very solemn expression. The silence was broken when Luke nervously turned to face Layton.

"Umm, professor?"

"Hmm?"

Luke fiddle with his fingers, "That woman, the one we followed, I, I could have sworn I'd seen her before."

"What?" the professor stopped walking and gave Luke a puzzled look, making Luke even more nervous.

"I said, I think I've seen her somewhere, but I can't put my finger on it." Layton was looking worried now, but he shook the expression off and continued walking.

"That's impossible" he said under his breath. Luke didn't dare contradict him, so he too started off in the direction of China Town. All the time the professor could not get the girl out of his head; if there really was a time machine here, Could it be Claire? And what was that Luke had said, that he had seen her before? Luke couldn't possibly remember, could he?


	2. Chapter 1: A Lost Contact

Chapter One: A Lost Contact

London, 8 months before the explosion.

"Good morning, Hershel," said Claire as she entered his study. The whole room looked as if a wave of papers and documents had hit it. Hershel had tried to make the place tidy, she knew that, he never stopped talking about them buying a house together and how he was already packing. The problem was that he would pack up a room, then find he needed something he had packed and before you knew it the place had been turned upside down. Whenever he tried to box it all up again he kept getting distracted, as, by the looks of it, he was now. Claire placed one of the cups of tea she was holding on the desk beside him.

"Good morning," Hershel replied, pecking her on the cheek, and "Oh! Thank you" when he spotted the tea. Claire pulled over a chair and sat next to him, drinking from her own mug.

"So," Claire examined a pile of hopelessly disorganised letters. "I can see the tidying went well." Hershel blushed.

"I am beginning to fear that an untidy room is one puzzle I shall never be able to solve," he said rather sheepishly.

Claire smiled, "You of all people should know that every puzzle has an answer," she assured him, then she saw the small notebook in his hands. "Hmm? What's that?"

"I found it while I was packing." Claire was not surprised to hear this, in fact she heard nearly every day.

"What is it?"

"It's my address book from the end of university" he replied "Most of these people I haven't heard from in years." He turned another page and a loose piece of paper fell out, landing on the floor. Claire picked it up.

"Clark T," she read aloud. "Oh, as in Clark Triton?"

"Clark?" Hershel took the page from her hand and examined it.

"It's been a very long time since I've seen him or Brenda," Claire remarked "I remember you two, always talking about becoming famous archaeologists and all the treasures you would find together." Hershel smiled to himself.

"It certainly has been a long time" he sighed.

"You two were so close, how come you don't speak any more?" she asked.

"Well, I have always felt it was mostly my fault we lost touch."

"I'm sure that's not true," Claire assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But, what happened exactly?"

"It is a bit complicated," said Hershel, "but I shall do my best."

"A few years ago, shortly after we finished university, Clark proposed to and married Brenda."

"Yes, I remember the wedding," Claire beamed, "and you were his best man!"

"Yes, that was quite an honour. After getting married, Clark and Brenda were ready to settle down in London. But sadly, Clark's mother unexpectedly died. Clark and his mother had no other close relations left, so Clark received everything she had, including a house in… Misthallery I think it was called. Well, Clark and Brenda decided to move into this house, I tried to keep in touch for a while but I became less and less sure of how to speak to Clark after his mother's death. I wonder what has become of him?"

"You should write to him," suggested Claire, finishing her tea. "If he inherited that house I would say there's a good chance he's still there."

"Hmm, perhaps I will," said Hershel, reaching for his letter set… to find it wasn't there.

"Maybe tidy up first?" Claire giggled as Hershel blushed with embarrassment. "And try organizing where you pack everything, it's worth it I promise."

It took quite a while to think of what to write, every time Hershel tried and reread his work it just didn't seem right. After a long time he got something that would do.

_Dear Clark_

_I found your address when going through some things and wondered how you were getting on. Life is going very well here in London, Claire and I are buying a house together soon. You remember Claire, don't you? She has a job as a lab assistant now and I am looking into teaching at a university. I trust you two are well and I hope to hear back from you soon._

_Regards, Hershel Layton. _


	3. Chapter 2: Triton's Letter

**Thanks for all the support! It really means the world for my first fanfic! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story because after this there's only two chapters left! D: But as I said before I have longer and better stories to come!**

Chapter 2: Triton's Letter

London, 7 months and two weeks before the explosion.

Claire was sat on one of the last remaining bits of sofa without boxes occupying it with a newspaper in her hands. The door opened and Hershel entered, holding a bunch of letters.

"Anything interesting?" Claire inquired. For answer Hershel sat on the opposite sofa and sorted through the haul, throwing the bills and what-not on to the coffee table. After a few seconds of this he paused at one letter, a grin spread across his face.

"I believe this to be Clark's handwriting." Claire didn't need to be told twice and she practically flew over to see the letter.

"Well? Go on, open it!" She exclaimed excitedly, Hershel chuckled and opened the letter.

_Dear Hershel _

_I was delighted to receive your letter and I am glad to hear that you well, please give my regards to Claire. Good luck with the teaching, I can see you being a professor! Brenda and I are doing very well, Misthallery is nice, the people are nice as well, but we do miss London. You really should come here sometime so we can catch up in person._

_Your friend, Clark. _

"Well, we ought to make time to go down there soon," said Hershel, placing the letter on his lap, Claire nodded.

"Wait," she pick up the letter, "what's this written at the bottom?"

_Oh, and one last thing. If you were to come round some time, there may be a bit of a surprise here, I am afraid that is as much as I can reveal the moment, but hopefully you can come and see for yourself._

"Oh! That sounds exciting!" She took a small notebook from her pocket that she used as a calendar, then she frowned. "But, I'm booked up at the lab for the next couple of months, I haven't got really got the time."

"We will just have to wait for a convenient time to come," Hershel replied, rising from his seat, "But more importantly I haven't had a cup of tea this morning."

"Oh the horror," Claire smiled, she placed the letter on the table and returned to her newspaper.


	4. Chapter 3: The Greatest Things

**Sorry if I made the 'surprise' too obvious! My favorite part of the story is coming up now! (Hope the name of the chapter isn't TOO cheesy!) **

Chapter 3: The Greatest Things in the Smallest Packages

London, 4 weeks before the explosion.

"Finally!" Claire sighed, falling backwards onto her new bed, in her new room, in her new house. "I was beginning to think we would never get everything unpacked!"

"Well, someone once told me that being organised is always worth it." Hershel grinned as he said this.

"Oh Hershel, just because you turned out to be more organised than me, it doesn't mean you get to boast about it! How very ungentlemanly of you!" Claire tried to speak firmly but ended up having a giggling fit.

"Please accept my deepest apologies and regrets." Hershel used his most gentlemanly tone, which only made the giggling worse.

"So," Claire's laughing calmed down and was able to speak again. "Now we have a whole week to ourselves! What shall we do?"

Silence.

"Any suggestions?" Claire tired. Hershel bit his lip, it had been such a long time since they could do whatever they wanted that they didn't know what they wanted to do.

"Is there anywhere you want to go?" He asked. Claire thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Any one you want to visit?" At this Claire's eyes lit up.

"Oh! We could go and see Clark and Brenda," she suggested. "He did invite us a while back."

"Is this because you want to see your friends?" Hershel asked. "... Or because of this 'surprise'?"

"Oh Hershel! What do you take me for?" Claire tried to act shocked, but this only started the giggling again. 

Misthallery, 3 weeks before the explosion.

The door to the Triton household was opened by an elderly looking man.

"Ah! You must be Hershel and Claire," he exclaimed. "Please, come in."

"Thank you sir." Hershel thanked him as he and Claire entered, they were shown to the parlor where Clark and Brenda were waiting for them.

"Ah! Claire, Hershel," Clark greeted them. "It's been too long, far too long." The four exchanged hellos and sat down to catch up with each other. The man who had met them at the door brought them some tea. Claire was awestruck by it all.

"This place is so posh!" She exclaimed. "And you have a butler?"

"Oh, yes, that's Doland," Clark said for answer. "He's been here a little while now." Just then Doland entered and gave a polite cough.

"Oh! Umm, please excuse a moment." Brenda said nervously, then she got up and left. Clark gave her a knowing smile.

"You will recall that in my letter I told you there was a surprise here," Claire's and Hershel's attention was immediately gripped. "I'm sorry I had to be so vague, you see, Brenda's parents were travelling when we found out and we felt we shouldn't spread the news until they knew. Besides," Clark smiled at Hershel, "I know how much you enjoy a puzzle." It was only now that something occurred to Claire, she turned to Hershel.

"You'd already guessed, hadn't you?" She said a bit crossly. "You'd guessed and you didn't tell me!"

"I… Had a theory, yes," Hershel answered. "I didn't want to tell you it because I wasn't sure it was right, but," he looked over in Clark's direction. "What you just said all but confirms it."

"Well? What's this theory then?" Claire asked eagerly. Hershel heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"I think," he said in reply. "We are about to see for ourselves..." Doland held the door open for Brenda as she entered. Claire jumped from her seat, her hands were clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Clark and Hershel also stood with warm smiles. Two eyes flickered open and a small head lifted from Brenda's shoulder, it gave the party a tired and bewildered look.

"Hershel, Claire," said a very proud Clark. "May I introduce you to Luke Triton, latested addition to the family."

Claire approached the child slowly, "Hello," she said in the way people always do to small children. She stroked his cheek with her finger. Luke smiled shyly and cowered into his mother, make muffled 'ma ma' sounds. "Oh, he's just so adorable!" Claire could hardly contain her excitement.

Brenda smiled at her."Perhaps you would like to hold him?" Before she could agree, Claire had Luke in her arms. He seemed quite puzzled by this at first, but when he saw Claire's kind and reassuring expression, he started to laugh, or, at least tried to laugh, he hadn't quite got the hang of it yet. Hershel came over to see the infant.

"He is very charming." He said, beaming at the young boy.

"And clever," Clark added, laughing as Luke made a swipe for Claire's glasses. "... Upsettingly clever; he keeps escaping from his cot in the middle of the night and I can't work out for the life of me how he's doing it."

Hershel and Claire stayed for lunch and a bit more tea at the Triton's. Luke had obviously taken a shine to the pair, notably Claire, and was very upset when they had to leave. As a result of his tantrums Luke and his parents walked them to Hershel's very old and rustic car -which was going to need replacing soon- and waved them off. Luke made one more desperate attempt to hug Claire, nearly falling out of Brenda's arms.

"Well, he really does like you!" Brenda fastened her grip on her child before continuing, "I think he'll remember you for a long time."

Claire watched the Tritons grow smaller until they were out of sight, she wondered if she and Hershel would look like that one day, a happy family. Claire turned her attention to the road in front of her, surrounded with fields and trees, For now she would just have to wait and see what the future had in store for her.

**And that is how Luke recognised Claire! I know no one can remember anything from that age but hey, this is a fictional world! Next up is the last, but not least (but definitely the saddest) chapter! See ya next time!**


	5. Chapter 4: The Lost Future

**This is it, the final chapter! Thanks for all the positive feedback! **

Final chapter: The Lost Future

London, 5 hours before the explosion.

Professor Hershel Layton examined his image in the mirror. The hat was very tall, not that he hadn't noticed, he was just trying to get used to the fact that the hat, on his head, was very tall. He had already knocked it clean off his head a couple of times walking through a doorway. He tried adjusting it but it was still stiff and a bit uncomfortable, oh well, perhaps it would mold over time, or he would mold to it. He turned his head from side to side, then realised it looked the same from all angles. Hershel smiled to himself, maybe he could make a top hat work? But it didn't suit the rest of his outfit, it just wouldn't do. He had a rummage through his drawers but found nothing, he then moved onto his wardrobe where he found a black jacket with high collar and some olive coloured shoes, these would do nicely, but he would have to go out and find a different shirt. Pulling the hat firmly down on his head he set out to the nearest clothing store, in the hope that he would find something in time for dinner that night with Claire.

London, 2 days since the explosion.

Innocent citizens of London jumped backwards off the roads for fear of their lives. Clark usually took a lot of care whilst driving, but right now something far more important was on his mind. He had only got the news that morning, he would cry for Claire later, but right now he had to get to the house, he had to find Hershel; he knew how much Layton loved Claire and was petrified something terrible might have happened. Clark slammed his foot on the brakes, then moved the car to the side of the road. Passer-bys gave him scornful stares as he stepped out on to the pavement, not stopping to lock his car, Clark made a dash for Hershel's front door. It was unlocked, slightly ajar in fact, this was a bad sign to start with. Fearing what he might find, Clark took a breath and made his way in.

Emptiness, that was the only word that could describe the scene that met Clark, the whole place was reeking of silence. Clark made his way into the dining room, a thin layer of dust was already forming on all surfaces. On the table was what looked like a large hat box, Clark took a closer look and found a label.

_For Professor Layton_

_Love, Claire XXX_

Clark searched the rest of the house but didn't find Hershel, in fact it seemed as if no one had been in the house for at least a day, he was lucky not to have been burgled, although, Clark reminded himself sadly, the last thing you could call Hershel right now was lucky. He searched the rest of the house but no one was home. He found himself in what must have been the new professor's study, the desk was littered with broken bits of pottery and paperwork. _He could just be out _Clark tried to reassure himself, _He could just have gone to the shops, _But as the place looked as if it had been abandoned for 24 hours, this didn't help much.

"Clark?" He spun around at the sound of Hershel's voice, who had managed to get in the room without Clark hearing him. He had a bunch of newspapers under his arm and a brand new top hat on his head, one that looked like it could easily fit in the box in the dining room.

"Hershel, I…" Clark stammered as he tried to find the words. Here he was, all the way from Misthallery, to stand in front of his old friend and say, "I… I don't know what to say."

"That's… That's fine, Clark," the professor hung his mournful head. "There's nothing to be said."

Clark stayed for a couple of hours, making tea and getting Hershel to help him tidy up the house, knowing that being busy is one of the few things that sooths someone numb with grief, he himself had to do this when his mother died. When the house was spotless and the tea mugs were washed, the two sat in silence, the only comfort Clark had left to give.

Finally, Hershel spoke. "You really should be getting back to your family." Clark looked him in the eye.

"I can stay if you want me to." Hershel gave him a grateful smile for this.

"Thank you, but I'll be fine."

Clark collected his coat and made his way to his car, Hershel followed to see him off. "If you ever need us, you are always welcome." Clark offered.

"Thank you, Clark, and thank you for coming." The professor answered. Clark gave him a nod and got in his car. Hershel watched the car disappear, then went back inside the lonely house. He found the pile of newspapers he had collected. Nothing, hardly anything, an explosion like that, the damage it caused, it should be all over the news, someone must be compressing it. Hershel found the brown, leather note pad he hadn't found a use for yet and started cutting out the little information the papers provided. He needed to get to the bottom of this, for Claire's sake, he had to get to the bottom of this.


End file.
